


Gliding on Thin Ice

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, Ice Skating, M/M, Modern AU, Oblivious Harry Potter, Snarky Draco Malfoy, aro ron weasley, pretty much everyone else is gay, slowburn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-15 18:15:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28942818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Draco hadn’t really been thinking when he got into the man’s car. I mean sure, he had been thinking, but his thoughts were more inclined towards his "ridiculous biceps" and his "fucking man bun holy hell," to directly quote a few of his thoughts.Or: Draco Malfoy is late on the one day he needs to be on time, and Harry Potter just happens to drop by and ask if he needs help. It was definitely just because he thought Draco looked frantic, and not because "holy hell that man could stab me and I would thank him." Draco assumed that would be the end of it, but a lost phone and a shared skating rink say otherwise.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Pansy Parkinson
Comments: 4
Kudos: 20





	1. Hot Stranger Alert

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [If you wannabe my lover (you gotta get with the Ga(a)ng)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25573774) by [Miss_Rust](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Rust/pseuds/Miss_Rust). 



> This is my first fanfic so lemme know what you think. Also this was heavily inspired by two different zukka fanfics, I linked one of them but I forgot what the other one is called so if I find it again I'll link it too. Updates should hopefully happen at least once a week.

Draco hadn’t really been thinking when he got into the man’s car. I mean sure, he had been thinking, but his thoughts were more inclined towards his _ridiculous biceps_ and his _fucking man bun holy hell,_ to directly quote a few of his thoughts.

  
Draco had been late to class because his car decided to break down on the one day he couldn’t afford to be late for training. Cursing all of the gods in existence, he ran down the street to the bus stop, desperately hoping a bus would miraculously appear. When it had been five minutes and no such bus had appeared, he uttered a quiet fuck and called Pansy.

  
Draco’s relationship with Pansy was- well, complicated. She could be a great friend sometimes, but she much preferred teasing him for his lack of love life, his lack of social life in general, his uppity fashion sense, his figure skating, his hair, etc., etc. While Draco managed to tolerate it most of the time, it was just too much to be around her for long periods of time.

  
By the time he was sent to voicemail, Draco was frantic. He was mentally preparing himself to run all the way to the rink when a teal convertible pulled up in the lane closest to him. The driver looked at him through the open window, not even paying attention to the red light in front of him.

  
“Are you ok mate? You’re looking a bit distressed there.”

  
Draco finally looked up from his phone and _holy hell this man was fine_. He had the most gorgeous brown skin Draco had ever seen, and his thick hair must’ve been about shoulder length when it was down, but as it was up in a messy bun, Draco couldn’t really tell. He slipped his face back into cold indifference before responding, “No, how would I be ok? I’m out here on this goddamn sidewalk because the one day i was supposed to be on time for training my car fucking broke down and now I’m probably gonna get kicked out of the auditions and-”

  
“Well if you needed a ride, you could’ve just said so. Hop in.” The dude looked so earnest that Draco only hesitated for a few moments before yanking the passengers door open and hauling both himself and his “ridiculously humongous” (to put it in Pansy’s words) skating bag into the car. He closed the door just in time, and the guy grinned at him when he fumbled around for the seatbelt for a few moments as they started driving.

  
The guy loosened his grip on the steering wheel before turning to look at Draco. “I guess I haven’t really introduced myself yet, but I’m Harry.” He flashed another one of those grins at Draco and Draco physically felt his stomach flutter. _Jesus Draco, get yourself under control_.

  
Draco rolled his eyes. “I’m Draco. Now look back at the road before you get us both killed.”

  
Harry kept on grinning at him. “You haven’t told me where I’m dropping you off yet.”

  
Draco silently cursed. “571 Wentworth Lane. It’s a skating rink, so it’s pretty hard to miss.” Harry’s eyes lit up, then he finally stopped looking at Draco and went back to looking at the road, this time muttering to himself about right turns and needing to be on Holly Avenue. Draco sighed and slumped back into his seat, feeling a little more at ease now that he was on his way to the rink. He turned his head and looked at Harry in earnest for the first time. He had that godawful hair that was so fucking hot, dark brown and thick and full of ruly curls and _oh my god_. He was well built, with defined arms and broad shoulders. The man was too handsome for his own good. That jawline could cut ice, and those _fucking cheekbones_ \- Draco realized he was staring. He blushed and concentrated on fiddling with his water bottle.

  
Harry remained blissfully oblivious, with his brow furrowed as he changed lanes. He really does have an exquisite face- _oh my god Draco, shut the fuck up you are not crushing on a random man you just met. He could be 30 for all you know,_ Draco mentally chastised himself. Harry was wearing a maroon hockey jersey with gold accents, a large 17 and the name Potter scrawled across the back. The sleeves accentuated his ridiculous biceps, and for the first time, Draco felt insecure in his tight black long sleeve shirt and sweatpants. It was practical for practice, but Draco always felt very dressed down when coming to and from his daily training sessions.

  
Draco knew he was good looking. The sheer amount of articles that mentioned his “cheekbones that could cut metal”, or his “long, slim legs” was frankly ridiculous. At the ripe age of 17, he was well on his way to the Olympics, and he didn’t have the time to flirt with anyone, much less be in a relationship. There was also the problem that no one except for his coach and his friends knew he was gay, and he wasn’t willing to risk the news finding out.

  
Draco looked up with a start when Harry reached over and nudged his shoulder. Realizing they were at the rink, he blushed slightly at being caught off guard and opened the car door immediately. Before getting out, he turned back to look at Harry again. “Thank you so much, I can’t explain how helpful this was.” Draco silently cursed himself for blushing.

  
Harry broke into yet another grin. “The pleasure is mine. Weren’t you kind of in a rush though?” Draco looked down at his watch, then muttered _shitfuck_. “Try not to be too late!” Harry yelled as Draco grabbed his bag and ran towards the heavy doors of the back entrance.

  
“Yes, sir,” Draco yelled back sarcastically before he could stop himself. Hating himself for being late, for being awkward, for blushing, and for not getting the man’s goddamn number, he ran into the rink.

************************************************************

  
Harry knew that you technically weren’t supposed to invite strangers into your car, but he looked so angelic, and frustrated, and Harry couldn’t just leave him there. So he purposely pulled into the lane closest to him, taking advantage of the long red light to see if he could do anything to help the stranger.

  
He had the most beautiful platinum hair, silky straight and healthy. The guy himself was all angles, with a slim build underneath his tight black shirt and _angular fucking cheekbones holy fuck those are my weakness fuuuuuck_. He looked so gorgeous when he was annoyed that it took all of Harry’s resolve to stay focused on what he was saying and not the fact that _this stranger looks absolutely fucking eatable_.

  
Once they were finally in the car and driving again, Harry turned to look at the stranger again. “I guess I haven’t really introduced myself yet, but I’m Harry.” He gave the man one of his Signature Smiles.

  
He rolled his eyes and it was the most beautiful thing Harry had ever seen. “I’m Draco. Now look back at the road before you get us both killed.” Harry figured he was at least some kind of skater because of his huge skating bag, but he couldn’t help but think it must be some kind of fate that they trained at the same rink. Not only was Draco gorgeous, he also seemed to be taller than Harry, and he moved so gracefully that he seemed to be more angel than human. _Harry, get your fucking thoughts under control, it’s only been two minutes_.

He started on the way to the rink, muttering directions and reroutes to himself. There was something very familiar about Draco, and he couldn’t put his finger on it. When they had finally arrived, Draco didn’t notice. Harry reached out and nudged his shoulder playfully. When Draco looked up and blushed, Harry had a hard time not blushing himself. It was mostly on instinct that he yelled, “Try not to be too late!”, but when he was rewarded with a sarcastic “Yes, sir,” Harry rolled his eyes. The man had the natural gift of sarcasm, that was for sure. 

  
He was feeling slightly put out about not getting Draco’s number, but he figured he would see him around the rink if he sought him out. He was about to get out of the car and make his way to the doors when he noticed a sleek, black phone in the passenger’s seat. Harry was worried for approximately a second, then he grinned. Here was his opportunity to give the guy his number without seeming desperate. Plan in mind, he finally got out of the car and set off towards the rink.


	2. Distraction or Inspiration?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry its been like over a week but here's the new chapter. i had a ton of tests last week so i didn't have the time to do any writing, but i have this entire week off so hopefully i'll post at least a few chapters this week. also, romeo and juliet on ice is using the music from prokofiev. hope you enjoy!

Draco loved the ice. He loved the fluid motions and the sharp sound of the skates cutting through the ice. It was his own personal world; away from all of his trauma and his mildly shitty friends and the stupid tabloids and articles about him. He could lose himself in the beautiful motions, finding his personal balance. He loved the slight adrenaline of landing a difficult jump. He was almost always able to lose himself in the choreography and the powerful movements, losing himself in the happiness of being _good_ at something.

The exception seemed to be that day. After having been dropped off at the rink by Harry, Draco rushed into the rink, trying (and failing) to calm his nerves. Today was the day of his audition for the role of Romeo in _Romeo and Juliet on_ _Ice_ , which was arguably the most popular ice skating show in the nation. His coach, Andreas, was already waiting by the rink when Draco finally ran in. Andreas leveled him with an unimpressed gaze. "I thought we were past the _running in ten minutes late to the most important audition of your life_ phase," he drawled, his French accent making him sound even more annoyed.

Draco rolled his eyes. Andreas had been his coach since he started four years ago, and by now, Draco knew that he was all bark and no bite. The man was a complete marshmallow on the inside, but he didn't want to let anyone know because "Those _putain de_ Russian coaches would lose all of their respect for me," as Andreas so elegantly put it. He glided onto the ice, closing his eyes for a moment. He would never get tired of the feeling of pure power he felt when he first stepped onto the ice. He opened his eyes and circled back around to where Andreas was. 

"This is the most important thing you will ever do. Fuck the Olympics, this is more important than that. You don't simply do your best out there, you do better than your best. I'm revoking your vending machine privileges if you don't." Andreas looked at him, a similar look of determination and confidence on his face.

Draco was trying to be confident, he really was, but he just wasn't there yet. He didn't always land his triple axel, he had trouble with spins, and he had only been skating for _four years_ , compared to the twelve years of experience everyone else his age had. He managed to find confidence while on the ice, but he was always a nervous wreck before an audition or a show. "Andreas, I appreciate the vote of confidence, I really do, but what happens if I'm not good enough? What happens if I fail?" Draco asked, trying to keep his voice steady.

"Then they'll have lost the best skater they would have had. Don't worry, if you fail, _which you won't_ , they'll regret it when they watch you win gold at the Olympics."

Draco finally smiled. "I got this."

Andreas pushed him onto the ice. "That's the spirit! Remember, your vending machine privileges depend on this."

Draco smirked. _"Ahh_ _yes_ , because that's the most important thing at stake here. Not, you know, getting the lead role in the most popular figure skating show in the world and going on tour for six months. Definitely just the vending machine privileges."

Andreas rolled his eyes. " _Connard_ , you and I both know that the vending machine is the only reason you come here." He cut himself off as he looked towards the door, where three judges had just walked in. "Ahh, _bienvenue_! We have been waiting for you!"

The judges nodded tersely. Their appearance wasn't exactly helping Draco's confidence levels, as they all looked equally terrifying. After a moment, he collected himself and put on the calm facade he reserved for strangers. It took him years to master the look of complete calm with a hint of sass, and it hid all of his anxieties perfectly. It also happened to be the reason there were so many articles calling him a _stone-cold bitch_ or a _heartless git_ , but Draco had gotten over those articles by now.

The judge on the left was a short, stocky woman with her salt-and-pepper hair pulled back into an impossibly tight bun. The judge in the middle was a tall, muscular man with gray hair and an impressive beard. He seemed to have a permanent scowl fixed on his face. The judge on the right was an equally tall, muscular woman, with her curly hair shaved near her scalp. Her face was the friendliest out of the three, meaning her face was only neutral instead of wearing a scowl.

"And what do you have ready for us today?" the judge on the right asked.

Draco took a moment to calm his voice before uttering, "An adaptation of Dance of the Knights."

The judge on the right nodded. "You may begin."

Draco took his place on the center of the ice, getting into position. He gave a nod to Andreas, and Andreas sent him a wink before beginning the music.

Draco mentally shook his nerves out, then took his pose, arm stretched out. As he heard the dramatic swells of music, he began skating, at first slow and measured, then slightly faster, turning and executing large spins according to the music. He was not doing his best, and he was beginning to freak out. As the main part of the song started again, he resolved to lose himself in the music.

When the much more gentle part started, Draco went into his smaller jumps and turns, completed by small flicks of his arms. He stopped thinking about everything except for the moves and the music. However, when he finally lost himself in the skating, instead of seeing his usual images of beautiful turns, he saw-

_Green eyes? What the fuck? A man bun? No this can't be no-_

Draco resolved to clear his mind, pushing Harry out of it. However, the more he tried to push him out of his mind, the more he invaded it. At this point, Draco had lost his spirit and was just barely performing the choreography correctly. He tried to think of anything, _anything_ , but Harry, but his stubborn mind refused to comply. Draco was frantic. How was he going to finish the routine, and finish it _well_ , with _this happening_?!

Images of Harry's face kept on plaguing his mind and his concentration, and finally, Draco had had enough. He resolved to never talk to the git ever again, because _if he thinks he can just waltz into my life and make me mess this up he has another thing coming_.

Draco finally finished the piece, kneeling on the ice with a (fake) triumphant look on his face. Inside, he was crushed. How had he let a stupid crush like this ruin his _performance?_

Andreas, however, was absolutely glowing. As Draco got up, he rushed onto the ice to hug him.

"Whatever you found for inspiration there, _keep_ _it_. That was the most alive I've ever seen you look during an audition, _mon dieu_!"

Draco was dumbfounded. He had done terribly, he was distracted the whole time, thinking about _stupid fucking Harry_ and channeling that into his skating instead of his actual moves. How was this not the worst audition he had ever had?

The judges beckoned for him to come over to them. He skated over, feeling slightly nauseous.

Left Judge spoke first. "Your level of drama and emotion was the best we've seen so far. Hold on to that, it will get you far in life."

Right Judge spoke next. "While your technique could use a little sharpening, you have the makings of a Romeo."

Middle Judge had saved his thoughts for last. "Your piece really made me feel. I felt the anger and the drama at the beginning, then the calmer sort of neutrality towards the middle. I enjoyed your performance." His voice was deep and gravelly, and Draco felt himself relax a tiny bit. That meant he had done well, right?

Right Judge spoke again. "We will contact you in a week to let you know if you got the part." With that, all three judges turned and left, each of them shaking Andreas' hand on the way out.

Andreas turned to him, a wicked smile on his face. "So who's the lucky guy? I can recognize inspiration from a crush when I see it."

Draco's cheeks burned. "I don- I don't know what you're talking about," he choked out. "So anyways, I want work on my Biellmann spin. I've been having some trouble with balancing when my leg is all the way up."

Andreas shot him a cunning look. "I know you're trying to change the subject. I also know that you know that I am a slut for teaching people the Biellmann spin, so I will let you change the subject _for now_."

Draco made his best angelic face. "I have no idea what you're talking about, sir professor doctor teacher coach Andreas."

Draco heard Andreas mutter something like " _Putain de_ _connard_."

************************************************************

Harry's mind was racing with scenarios in which he would give Draco's phone back when he walked into the rink. He saw Draco talking to what he assumed was his coach in one of the other rinks, and Harry let himself stop and look at Draco for a few seconds before making his way to the locker rooms. _Christ, the man was_ _angelic_.

By the time he finally made it to the rink his team used, he was running five minutes late. He kept on getting distracted as he put on his skates in the locker room, trying to come up with the best way to get to know Draco (and ask him out). Coach Peter Samuel, or Coach Pumpkin Spice as he was lovingly called by the entire team, simply sent him a scowl before continuing to lay out the plan for this practice.

Harry continued to be distracted throughout the entire practice. He was trying to concentrate on his drills, but all of his thoughts were consumed by grey eyes and blonde hair and _cheekbones cheekbones cheekbones_. By the end of the first half of practice, Harry had fallen and missed so many passes that Pumpkin Spice asked him to talk to him after practice. Harry sighed and agreed, thinking he was going to get mildly yelled at. He just couldn't help it, his eyes seemed to naturally gravitate to the rink where Draco was practicing.

Instead, Coach PS walked up to him with a mischievous gleam in his eye. "Say, that blonde kid next door is pretty good-looking, isn't he?"

Harry started coughing so hard he almost choked. "I'm sorry, but what?"

"Don't think I haven't noticed you making doe eyes at him all practice," Coach PS continued, an impish grin on his face.

"That- that's not- there's nothing between us sir! You must be mistaken," Harry blurted out.

Coach PS only gave him a not-so-subtle wink, pushing him towards the exit. "Go get some lunch kid. There seems to be two ladies waiting for you at the door."

Harry could only nod, trying to hide his bright red face as he made his way off the ice. 

"And Harry?"

"Yes sir?" Harry said, dreading what was coming next.

"Try to keep your pining to before and after practice, not during."

Harry spluttered protests, but Coach PS was already skating off the other way, cackling.

He went to the locker room and changed, then made his way to the door. Sure enough, Pansy and Hermione were waiting there, hand in hand. "We wanted to get lunch with you and you weren't answering our texts," Pansy explained at his questioning look. Harry grinned. Surely lunch with Pansy and Mione would be exactly what he needed to take his mind off of _Dra-_

_Nope. Nope. Nope. Don't even say his name._

"Alright, sounds good, where are we going?" Harry commented as he picked up his phone and his wallet.

"That little Italian place we like, you know the one," Hermione responded. "We'll get going as soon as the other person gets here."

"Other person?" Harry queried.

Pansy let go of Hermione's hand and began walking off. "I'll go get him, love. He's probably going to take three hours to get here if I don't."

Hermione smiled at her as she walked off. "So, everything going well with Pansy?" Harry ventured.

She got such a dreamy look on her face that Harry almost regretted asking the question. "Oh yes Harry, she's everything to me. We just work so well together and she's so sweet and I just-"

Pansy arrived, dragging a person by the arm behind her. He was mostly covered by Pansy, so Harry craned his neck to see who it was.

_Oh. Oh fuck. Oh bloody, buggering fuck._

Trailing behind Pansy, looking slightly bored yet amused, was none other than _Draco._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> words in french:  
> putain- shit or fuck  
> connard- asshole  
> putain de- fucking ig? like putain de waffles means fucking waffles idrk how to explain it  
> bienvenue- welcome
> 
> Hope you enjoyed!! I should have another chapter up in a few days. Also thanks to my friends for giving me the motivation to write this


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